Читать книгу The Untamed Heiress - Julia Justiss - Страница 13

EARLY THE NEXT MORNING Helena left her chamber to share breakfast with the two ladies who had been so welcoming. After experiencing the confusing array of tastes and scents at dinner the previous night, she was happy to discover that the first meal of the day consisted of toast and tea served informally in the breakfast room.

More than her cordial reception, Lady Darnell’s stories about Helena’s mother had established between them the intangible link of kinship. Feeling more loved and accepted than she had since the loss of her mother, Helena vowed to do her utmost to fit into Aunt Lillian’s world.

Eager to begin that process, as they sat sipping tea, Helena asked, “Shall we go to the dressmaker today?”

As she spoke, both women’s gazes went to the damaged hand she had unconsciously brought up to support her cup.

Deciding the first step in her resolve would be to set their minds at rest about her hand, Helena tucked it back in her skirt and said, “As I expect you’ve noticed, I also have an immediate need for gloves.”

After a glance at Aunt Lillian, Charis said tentatively, “Does…does the thumb still pain you?”

“No. The accident happened long ago. But it left the hand rather unattractive. I should like to conceal it as soon as possible.”

“And so you shall,” Aunt Lillian said sympathetically. “Rather than go to the shops in person, however, Charis and I agreed it would be better to have the merchants call upon you here. You can then make your first public appearance after you’ve had your hair styled and your new wardrobe completed, and have had some schooling in the behavior that will be expected of you as a young lady in London. I’m afraid you will find the rules a bit more restrictive than those you have been used to in the country.”

She would have to be exiled to the polar reaches of the planet to move in an environment more restrictive than that from which she’d escaped, Helena thought sardonically. But her kindhearted aunt didn’t need to learn that. “Please, do instruct me,” she replied. “I don’t wish to make errors and embarrass the family.”

Though the teeming city just outside beckoned beguilingly, Helena told herself she could tolerate being confined for a few more weeks. Should her resolution falter before Aunt Lillian pronounced her ready to greet the ton, she need only recall the shocked revulsion that had wiped the polite greeting off the face of Adam Darnell.

She intended to carefully avoid that particular gentleman until she could be sure that the response she evoked in him at their next meeting was more positive.

“We shall be happy to tutor you!” Lady Darnell said, pulling Helena from the humiliating memory. “I have already dispatched a note requesting my favorite mantua-maker to wait upon us this afternoon. Before she arrives, Charis and I will go to the shops and bring back a selection of shawls, gloves, shoes and undergarments from which you may choose. And I shall tell Harrison to contact his usual employment agency to find you a lady’s maid.”

The last item in this list drove the smile from Helena’s lips. “I’ve always waited upon myself, Aunt Lillian. I don’t wish to have a stranger.” And she had a compelling reason not to bare herself before one, as well.

“Helena, a maid is a necessity!” Charis said. “The simple round gown you are wearing now is…adequate, but your new clothing will require someone to adjust and pin it properly, to lace you in and out of your gowns and stays.”

Inspecting the morning gowns worn by her two companions, Helena realized Charis was correct. The bodice of the gowns closed in the back with tightly drawn laces extending from the high waist to the neckline. It would be impossible for her to manage lacing them alone.

“You mustn’t worry,” Aunt Lillian said. “Any candidate the agency sends will have excellent references.”

Any candidate with excellent references would likely be contemptuous of an employer who knew as little as Helena did about gowns and fashion. To say nothing of the other…

“I would rather employ someone just starting out, as I am. Could not one of the maids already here serve?”

Aunt Lillian frowned. “I suppose if you would feel more comfortable being assisted by someone within the household, Harrison might assign one of the housemaids until you feel ready for a proper lady’s maid.”

Perhaps she might request to have the maid who had summoned her for breakfast, Helena thought, brightening. The girl appeared young enough, perhaps, to not immediately recognize the deficiencies in Helena’s upbringing, and her merry smile suggested a sunny disposition. But she, too, would probably be shocked when she saw Helena unclothed.

That sobering thought extinguished the delight Helena had been feeling at the prospect of a new wardrobe. “Must I disrobe to be measured for gowns? I have not undressed before anyone since my mother left.”

Both women looked at her in surprise. “Surely you had some female to assist you,” Aunt Lillian said.

Helena shook her head. “My father did not risk exposing me to anyone with feminine sensibilities,” she said dryly. “The sole servant I saw after Mama left was the baliff who…helped enforce my father’s dictates.” The less said the better on just what those dictates had been.

“You’ve existed since your mother’s departure with no female company at all?” Charis asked, clearly taken aback.

“None at all.” A more pleasant memory intruded and Helena smiled. “Except for the old medicine woman who lived in our woods—a hermit who’d been there as long as anyone could remember. However, as she dressed all by guess, she was of no assistance in matters of fashion.”

“You poor child,” Aunt Lillian said, her voice shaking a bit. “But you mustn’t worry. In this house, you need do nothing that makes you uncomfortable. The seamstress can measure you in your shift and your maid need only assist you into your gowns. You can manage a night rail alone.”

Relieved, Helena nodded. “Thank you for understanding, Aunt Lillian. But my shift is so old and worn I should be embarrassed to meet the dressmaker in it. Might it be possible for you to purchase something for me before she arrives this afternoon?”

“Of course. Right after breakfast, Charis and I shall proceed to the corsetiere and order a selection of garments to be brought here for you to inspect, while we continue on to the glove and shoemakers. Before Madame Sofie arrives, you shall feel presentable in shift, gloves and slippers.”

Helena rose to hug her aunt. “How can I thank you?”

Lady Darnell kissed her forehead. “By enjoying yourself. We want you to be happy with us, child.”

Emotion rose to choke her throat and for a moment Helena could not speak. For nearly as long as she could remember, the intent of those closest to her had been to make her as unhappy as possible. She almost needed to pinch herself to believe she was awake and this was real, not the dream she’d dreamed every night of the life that would be hers when at last she was with her mother again.

That would never be possible now, but Mama, dearest Mama, had arranged something almost as wonderful. Grief and gratitude swelled in her chest.

“I shall do my best to be happy,” she said at last, “but you must do your parts. Mr. Pendenning assures me that Mama has left me the vastest of fortunes. It would delight us both for you two to choose new garments, too.”

Charis gave a peal of laughter. “Since Bellemere loves nothing better than new fashions, I expect we shall all be blissfully happy.”

Lady Darnell rose. “Come, Charis. If Helena is to be ready to meet Madame Sophie this afternoon, you and I must get to work.” She turned to Helena. “Should you like to rest in your chamber until we return, my dear?”

“Might I go to the library, ma’am?”

“’Tis Adam’s domain, but since he is to be out most of the day, you may certainly inspect it if you wish.”

“Are you a great reader?” Charis asked.

Helena paused, trying to frame the most innocuous reply. “I spent my happiest hours after Mama left in the library,” she said. Which was true enough.

“I do love the works of Mrs. Burney,” Charis said, and sighed. “The events were exaggerated, of course, but oh, how brave were the heroes and how fiendish the villains!”

Once again, Helena hesitated before answering. Heroes truly were the stuff of fiction and as for villainy…The images flashed into mind before she could stop them: the restraints, the whip, the airless, lightless priest’s hole where she had nearly lost her wits.

Shaking off the memories, she replied, “Isolated as we were, Mama taught me to love reading, but she preferred Scott, Shakespeare and the poets. Also the French philosophers—Pascal, Montaigne, Voltaire. Though truly, I read almost everything—travel journals, philosophy, mathematics. I would love to explore foreign lands.”

“You sound like quite the bluestocking!” Charis said. When Helena looked at her, uncomprehending, she explained, “A lady of vast education is known by that term—not a very complimentary one. I’m afraid it isn’t considered admirable for a lady to be too learned.”

Helena widened her eyes. “Society values ignorance?”

“Not precisely. I’m making a muddle of this.” Charis looked to Lady Darnell. “Could you explain, ma’am?”

“Of course a young lady can’t be ignorant,” the other lady replied. “She must be able to manage a household, stitch and embroider competently, and deal with servants and tradesmen. ’Tis desirable that she sing and perform pleasingly on the pianoforte or the harp and play well at cards. Some competence in reading French or Italian is also permissible, but a lady shouldn’t fatigue her mind with too much book-learning.”

Helena laughed ruefully. “Then I’ve acquired almost no useful knowledge at all. I haven’t set a stitch in years and have no idea how to get on in Society or manage a household. But if learning is so despised, why does anyone keep a library?”

“Oh, ’tis quite acceptable for gentlemen to be educated. But the gentler sex isn’t equipped to comprehend foreign tongues or study ancient literature—gods and goddesses cavorting about in the most unseemly fashion! And gentlemen don’t admire a lady who seems too…knowing.”

That she could believe, Helena thought acidly.

“You are far braver than I,” Lady Darnell continued. “I do not stir from London without two grooms to ride post and John Coachman on the box with his blunderbuss! To think of you traveling all alone on the mail coach is enough to give me palpitations, to say nothing of envisioning you in heathenish foreign lands!”

She shivered. “Pray, do not speak of it again. Having just found you, it is our earnest hope that we can make you so comfortable that you shall never wish to leave us. But enough,” she concluded as Helena sat mute, overwhelmed for the second time by Lady Darnell’s generous affection. “We must be going, Charis, if we are to complete our commissions and return betimes.”

After the ladies left, Harrison led her to the library. For the next hour, Helena explored with delight the treasures of this well-stocked room.

What a marvelous retreat this would make! she thought, selecting several volumes from the shelves. However, if this were Lord Darnell’s domain, she would not have unlimited use of it. She would have to ask Harrison every morning about his master’s schedule for the day.

Her inventory of the library’s holdings complete, she gazed around the room, taking in the sofa and two wing chairs before the hearth and the massive desk in the corner. Adam Darnell’s desk, of course.

Though her first impression told her this man would not be her enemy, best to learn as much as possible about the master of the household in which she now resided. Curiously she walked over to inspect his desk.

A stack of ledgers occupied one corner; an inkstand, quills and nibs were set at the center above several sheets of blank paper. To the other side was an assortment of books—Plato, Cicero and Voltaire, along with The Compleat Farmer and An Account of Operations at Holkham Estate.

If the desk were an indication of the character of the man who used it, Adam Darnell was neat and organized, a careful landlord and something of a scholar. He was certainly handsome, she recalled, some unnameable something stirring within her at the memory, and he seemed kind.

Still, it might be wise to explore the remainder of the house before the ladies returned. One never knew when a speedy exit might become imperative, and in such an event, one could not count on using the front entry.

However, with a dressmaker coming this afternoon, Helena’s most pressing need was to determine if the friendly parlor maid would be suitable to serve her. Even if the maid never saw her without her shift, at some point in the apparently laborious dressing process, that garment might slip—and the maid who viewed her back would need to be prepared and staunchly loyal to her service.

Leaving her chosen volumes for later, Helena exited the library and followed the hallway to a door that led to a flight of service stairs. As she expected, these ended on the ground floor next to the kitchen.

Within that ample room, a mob-capped woman tended a pot over a large iron cookstove while two other women chopped vegetables at a center table. At a smaller table to one side, Harrison sat across from an older lady in a dark dress with a set of keys pinned to her apron.

Conversation ceased and every occupant of the room turned to stare as she walked in. She sensed immediately that she had trespassed outside her proper domain.

Harrison jumped to his feet. “Excuse me, Miss Lambarth, I didn’t hear you ring. What do you require?”

“Excuse me, all of you, for coming here uninvited, but I have a bit of a dilemma that I hope you can help me solve.” Helena addressed herself to the dark-robed woman. “You are the housekeeper, Mrs. Baxtor?”

“Yes, miss,” the woman replied, curtseying.

“As I did not bring one with me, I need a lady’s maid. I should prefer not to hire some unknown person out of an agency and wondered if I might instead speak with the girl who waited on me this morning—Molly, I believe?”

The butler and the housekeeper exchanged glances. “Harrison takes care of hiring help, miss,” the housekeeper replied. “Molly is just a lower housemaid and hasn’t been trained for such work. If you step up to the parlor, I’m sure Harrison can discuss your requirements.”

Harrison bowed. “If you will follow me, miss?”

Nodding to acknowledge the curtseys of the staff, Helena dutifully left the room. So much for her distant memories of going with her mama to the kitchen to sample Cook’s fruit tarts, she thought ruefully. Not only had she obviously stepped out of place, she had stumbled into a hierarchy that did not readily admit change. Housemaids, apparently, did not turn overnight into ladies’ maids.

She would find no allies among that lot, Helena concluded, recalling the startled and mildly disapproving faces. But then, the household would go as the master dictated, as she ought to know well enough by now.

She must try a different tack, she decided as she trailed Harrison into the parlor. It would probably be better anyway to hire an outsider beholden to Helena alone for her position. But not, she was adamant, an experienced woman who would know instantly how out of place Helena was.

As Helena seated herself, Harrison said, “You would like me to inquire about a lady’s maid, miss?”

“Mr. Harrison, let us be blunt. My error in invading the kitchen must have confirmed what a man of your stature probably saw at first glance—that I wasn’t trained as befits one of my station. Lady Darnell will be helping me address those deficiencies, but while she does so, I do not wish to engage a dresser who would immediately note my inexperience. I should like to talk with Molly and see if she has a relation I might hire. I hope I could then rely on your guidance in instructing a new girl in her duties.”

Harrison nodded. “Better to bring in a newcomer than raise a maid here above her station. Naturally, I shall assist anyone you hire. I’m sure Mrs. Baxtor will, too.”

“You will have Molly sent to me, then?”

“Yes, miss. I expect Mrs. Baxtor can spare her from her work for a few moments.”

After pronouncing the last without a quiver of irony, Harrison withdrew. But as Helena waited for the maid to appear, memories of a conversation overheard on the way to London suddenly sparked another, better idea.

In addition to allowing her to personally select her employee, this alternative would insure that the person she chose would owe her position to Helena alone—and probably be grateful enough for the opportunity that she would work hard and ask no questions.

Best yet, Helena would be able to see at least a little of the city immediately. Indeed, by slipping out to hunt for a maid now, she could enjoy a freedom of movement that, based on what Aunt Lillian had just told her, she would probably have to forfeit once she’d been transformed into a young lady of fashion. A thrill of delicious anticipation energized her.

At that moment Molly entered and curtseyed. “Baxtor says you was wanting me, miss?”

“Yes, Molly. I have an errand to do and require a companion familiar with the city. Do you know how to get to St. Marylebone?”

“St. Marylebone?” the girl echoed. “’Tis rather far north of here, not near the shops or nothing. Are you sure that’s where you was wishful of going?”

“There’s a…business there I need to visit. You can show me the way?”

“I can, but you’d best be ordering out the carriage. ’Tis rather long a walk for a young lady.”

“I shall not be going as a fine young lady—at least outwardly. Lady Darnell does not want me to go about until my wardrobe is complete, but this matter cannot wait. If you can procure me a plain cloak with a hood, I can go there and back without attracting any notice. I will compensate you well.”

As the implications of Helena’s traveling incognito registered in the girl’s mind, her friendly smile faded. “I don’t think Lady Darnell or Mrs. Baxtor would look kindly on me, iff’n they knowed I helped you sneak out.”

“If anyone should discover us—which they will not—you need only tell Mrs. Baxtor that I ordered you to take me. She already knows I am a bit…odd.”

Molly giggled. “My, what a to-do it was, you coming down to the kitchen without a by-your-leave! John the footman told me ol’ Baxtor’s eyes was as big as dinner plates!” As if suddenly recalling to whom she was speaking, she blushed. “Meaning no disrespect, miss!”

Waving off the girl’s apology, Helena said, “Just before dark, while Lady Darnell is resting and the staff prepares dinner, we will slip away. Can you go today?”

Molly shook her head. “Oh, no, miss. Not today.”

A sympathetic anger uncurled inside Helena. “Does the master keep you confined here? Is he harsh?”

Molly looked at her uncomprehending. “You mean—Lord Darnell? Oh, no, miss! He’s been ever so kind every time I’ve seen him, even when he come up behind me one morning as I was bringing Eckles—that’s his valet—his shaving water and I dropped the pitcher and it shattered all over. But he was sweet as honey on a biscuit about it, and wouldn’t even let Eckles scold me, saying it was his own fault for startling me so.” The girl sighed. “He’s terrible handsome, too.”

So he was, Helena thought, remembering the odd little quiver he’d evoked in her. Relieved to have her innate distrust put to rest and her favorable first impression of Lord Darnell confirmed, she said, “Can you take me tomorrow?”

“I couldn’t get away until my half-day on Thursday.”

“Shall we say Thursday, then? If you come to my room before dinner tonight, I will give you money to make the preparations and reimburse you for working on your half-day. We shall have an adventure!”

Molly looked as if she did not find the idea of an adventure especially appealing. “I reckon I can do it, miss, but you…you’re sure we won’t get in no trouble?”

“None at all, I promise,” Helena said, giving the girl her most persuasive smile. She considered adding that the homemade knife she always kept strapped to her thigh—and her ability to use it—would guarantee a trouble-free trip. Judging by what she’d seen of London so far, however, such expertise was probably unusual among young ladies. No sense having Molly find her odder than she’d already shown herself.

After setting a time to meet the girl later, Helena dismissed the maid and went to fetch her book from the library. How much she’d accomplished in a single morning! The process of acquiring a wardrobe had begun, she’d discovered the room she would make her personal retreat and soon she would find a personal servant to be her ally in the household. Best of all, in a very few days she would embark on her first excursion.

Suddenly life seemed more exciting and full of opportunity than she’d ever imagined possible back at Lambarth or in the dark hours after learning of her mother’s death. A pang of sadness muted her enthusiasm as she remembered the lady whose wisdom had led her to this household—and to a family that actually seemed concerned about her happiness. To this household whose master, she thought, recalling Darnell’s handsome face and kind eyes, might just prove that honorable men existed after all.